


Chestnut Knight

by pumkinteacup



Series: Happy Hour with Karen Page [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst and Humor, Drunken Shenanigans, Humor, Karaoke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 06:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4511055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumkinteacup/pseuds/pumkinteacup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which piggy back rides and karaoke ensue. Vodka, of course, included.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chestnut Knight

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to Beguille who was a huge fan of this ‘Karen gets drunk’ series. So freaking kind and supportive! Thanks a million for the encouragement, this is dedicated in honor of your awesomeness and I hope this lived up to your expectations :) enjoy.

When Karen walks into the new Sushi place that’s opened across the street, she enters sober and hungry, craving calamari and green tea ice cream. The place is small and stuffy, overcrowded with costumers taking advantage of Happy Hour and smelling of B.O.

It’s a hundred degrees in Hell’s Kitchen and even the place they decide to eat doesn’t have air conditioning.

“Lahnmen and Zack had air conditioning,” Foggy informs Karen, “Us? We got fans and water sprays,” he states before squirting himself in the face with the bottle she bought solely for the new plant on her desk.

She fans herself and passes it back and forth between Matt and Foggy as they wait to get seated. Karen and Matt sit in heaven as Foggy fans them both, it’s his turn and he doesn’t seem to mind catering it to them than himself.

When they finally get seated Karen already knows what she wants but her dates seem are too busy arguing how one properly uses chopsticks.

Karen only shakes her head at the sight, rests her face upon her palm as she smiles. She likes this, being with them. Everyone else can have their dysfunctional families and holiday dinners, she had this.

When they leave stuffed on sushi, they get dragged to a neighboring bar that isn’t Josie’s. It’s clean and friendly, welcoming signups for Karaoke with a colorful banner and clip board.

Foggy buys drinks and signs himself up along with Karen to a song that unfortunately isn’t from Aladdin.  They sing ‘Everybody Wants to Rule the World.’ In the middle of the song when the chorus has reached its peak and the crowd has gone wild, Foggy dips her.

When they return to their seats, high on endorphins and applause, Karen makes a move to Matt’s drink. But before he can object, his name gets called. Karen breaks into hysterics at the realization.  

“Foggy, you didn’t,” Matt said helplessly.

“You bet your ass I did!” Foggy said before clapping him on the back and pushing him towards the stage, “And don’t you dare play the blind card on me, I chose a song you already know so you have no way out of this one, buddy.”

Karen is having trouble breathing when Foggy returns, smug and “Evil!” she accuses.

When the beginning intro of “Like a Virgin” starts, she falls off her stool. Matt’s jaw drops but he quickly recovers, mouthing a ‘Fuck you’ to Foggy before starting.  

Best Friday ever, she decides.

Matt handles it like a champ, ignores Foggy and Karen’s yell of “Encore!” and returns to his seat with the grace of a jaguar. He puts his jacket on to leave, “I have to get up early in the morning,” Matt says.

“It’s Friday!” Karen and Foggy both exclaimed.

“Technically, it’s Saturday,” Matt tapped his watch. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Foggy turns to look at her when Matt leaves, “Guess it’s just us,” he says “Team Never Sleep!”

“Team Never Sleep!” she cheers.

Foggy stops drinking at some point; only taking water to rehydrate and insists she does the same. She pretends to drink hers but ends up eating all the bowl of cherries instead. She’s a little tipsy and feels her wrists begin to turn to jelly.

When she’s done with the water and gets annoyed with Foggy by serving her some more, she pours it over her shoulder in an action that looks like she drank a shot. She slams the cup onto the table, “Mas aqua!” she says before heading to the bar.

“One vodka please,” she tells the bartender.

When Foggy goes for one more song, he breaks the microphone and ends up paying for it. She sneaks out the back with a napkin full of limes and hiccups while he speaks to the manager about payment.

The night air greets her with the same humidity and heat there was during the day. She rests against the wall, enjoying the brief breeze that cools her down. When she looks up, she rolls her eyes at a guy who walks by, wiggling eyebrows and suggested smirk directed her way.  

She closes her eyes and takes a moment to stop the buzzing in her ears. She thinks instead of a glowing halo she’s been gifted with a pair of wings but doesn’t recall drinking any Red Bull. She wonders how the heck she’s going to return them and how that’s going to look.

Ungrateful, most likely. 

When Foggy appears, his tie is wrapped around his head and jacket draped on his shoulder. They’re about to leave when Karen gasps.

“Oh my gawd,” she says, eyes wide in complete astonishment and wonder, “It’s Garfield.”

And among the trash next to them is a cat, fat and orange, lapping up a puddle of garbage juice near the dumpster a few feet away. Karen stares. She has never been more star struck.

Foggy shakes his head, “Nope, not Garfeild. Pretty sure that guy likes Lasagna, not trash.”

“It’s hard times Foggy,” she said seriously, “You don’t know what happened with him and Jon.”  

Foggy looks at her considerably and then, “Alright, let’s go.” He says, taking her arm and leading her away from the glaring cat, “let’s get some food in that stomach of yours.”

And Karen nods, wants pasta and wonders suddenly, “Do you think Garfield would like my pasta?”

“Karen, it wouldn’t be Garfield if he didn’t.”

Karen beams happily as they make it down another block. “I use to laugh with a snort,” she shares.

“Oh?”

Karen giggled, “By total accident though! When I was little, I thought it was really cute when people would laugh with a snort. So whenever I would laugh, I would always make a snorting sound on purpose. To sound cute,” she clarified “but the moment I stopped doing it, I actually began to laugh with a snort. It was so embarrassing, I couldn’t control it!”

Foggy chuckled.

“Okay, okay, my turn!”

Karen nodded.

“When I was younger,” Foggy said proudly, “I thought the thesaurus was a dinosaur.”

Karen stopped.

“Wait,” she said, “you mean the dictionary?”

Foggy nodded.

“You thought the dictionary was a dinosaur?!”

“It sounded like one, okay?!”

They pass another few blocks before they share their first crushes, both surprisingly involving cartoon characters. Foggy snorts at Karen,“Psshhh! Everybody had a crush on Fred from Scooby Doo, Karen. Try to be a little more original.”

“Me? You had a crush on Jessica Rabbit! How about you try to be a little more original.”

“Hey, I resent that. Jessica Rabbit is a true beauty. Just because she’s more in touch of her sexuality unlike some women doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve be treated with the upmost respect.”

“True.” Karen admitted. Leave it to Foggy Nelson to come to a cartoon’s defense. “I always thought Donald Duck was cute,” Karen confessed and an image of said duck’s behind popped into her head.

“That ass,” she joked.

“That tail,” Foggy corrected. Karen giggled as they looped arms, skipping away to their destination, hair flying into both their faces.

Being around Foggy was so unlike being around everybody else. He’s always so jolly and warm, always managing to express comfort and sunshine all in just one smile. The most underrated person in the world yet always the most loved by her and Matt.

The butterflies in her stomach begin to stir.

When Foggy bends down to tie his shoes, Karen hops on. He’s taken off guard but plays along, loudly announces “All aboard!” as he rises and secures her before walking off like a mule about to make a delivery

Karen becomes sleepy, dozing off with a mouth full of hair when she wakes up to an apartment building she’s never seen before. Dang, she’s going to have to start packing a toothbrush from the unplanned sleepovers. Or better yet, leave one here, _just in case_.

When they make it to his door she wonders if he’s still talking to Marci, the corporate (somewhat) friendly shark that helped them a while back. Marci is nice … ish, offered her an altoid when picking up Foggy once.

Altoids suck. Foggy doesn’t even like them.

When they make it inside Foggy promises her a treat. Cake. In celebration of their Happy Unbirthdays . He gets all the ingredients out to get started. She watches, delighted and starving, excited to blow out the candles and make a wish.

“What made you want to be a lawyer?” she asks as she watches him crack an egg.

And Foggy thinks considerably before answering.

“To Kill a Mockingbird.”

Now that she thinks about it, there is a copy of the book next to a framed photo of Matt and Foggy in their caps and gowns on his desk. The book as well as the film left quite an impression on her in high school, she isn’t surprised it did the same to someone else.

“And Legally Blonde!” Foggy added.

Karen rolls at her eyes at that, walks away to get a better look at his place. She wanders around until she spots a photo.

Curious, she walks closer and picks it up.

It’s of a boy as young as two or three, wearing overalls and mismatched socks on a crowded playground. The boy’s hair is light and blonde, tied in a ponytail with bangs parted in the middle that have baby hairs sprouting at the temples. The boy’s face is round and fair, cheeks puffed up resembling a chipmunk along with a toothy grin mid giggle.

And it’s the adorable smile and giggly face that gives the boy away.

“Awww,” Karen said, holding up the framed photo of the beaming boy with his stuffed animal. 

“It’s a baby Foggy,” she cooed, showing him the picture all the while bashing her eyelashes.

“Oh, um,” Foggy sets the batter down, walks away to stand right next to her. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looks down at the photo awkwardly, “Yeah, I was always a bit of a chubbster,” he says.

And Karen looks down at the photo lovingly, feeling as giddy and happy as baby Foggy. She brings the photo close to her chest and in a warming hug says, “ _My_ chubbster.”

Foggy turns red.

Karen giggles, pinches his cheeks before he can bash her hands away. The butterflies in her stomach take flight confusingly, one asking in complete annoyance, ‘I thought she liked the other one.’

“Who’s that?” she asks, pointing to the stuffed giraffe his younger self is clutching.

“That? That was my best friend before Matt. But don’t tell him that,” he said before taking the photo away, “don’t want to get him jealous.”

When the cake is done (and Foggy has hidden the photo she so badly wants to take a picture of), they retreat to the couch. Karen insists on feeding Foggy. When she misses her target and gets icing in his hair, they stop, settle for a fork and eat.

When they’re done, Foggy wraps her in a blanket and puts the T.V. on. Watching cartoons, she doesn’t even realize what they’re watching until a familiar monkey appears.

“Is this the Power Puff girls?” she asks.

“Wow, Karen,” Foggy drawled “You _just_ realized what we’re watching?”

Karen brings the blanket up to her chin, pouting, “I’m drunk,” she claims.

Foggy chuckles, petting her hair sympathetically, “I know.”

Foggy turns his attention back to the TV but she doesn’t, glares at his hair when she realizes he’s gotten another trim. She keeps telling him she wants to give him braids but with the monthly trims he continues getting that’ll never happen.

She brings her hand to his hair, curling a strand around a finger and tugs. And keeps tugging. A playful smile appears on his face as he continues to ignore her. She keeps tugging until he bashes her hand away, telling her to pay attention.

“Hey,” she says in a whisper, Foggy turns to her, “You have freckles,” she says. They’re light and tiny, like constellations begging to be named or a kid’s puzzle waiting to be connected.

She wonders if he can see her freckles. She spent most of high school trying to get rid of them. She didn’t succeed and still has the occasional person gush over them. It’s at this moment she realizes how close they are. She smells aftershave, old spice, and a unique scent that could only be called Foggy.

Their noses brush and Foggy’s breathe hitches, the butterflies in her stomach move wildly, colliding into each other, causing traffic. Hey eyes close shut as she moves in forward, tilting her head

“Karen,” Foggy said, “Stop.”

She does, looks up in a questioning gaze because why? And he sighs like he’s lost the biggest battle of all time, and says “Not like this.”

Karen freezes.

“What?” she asks in what can barely be called a whisper.

Foggy lets out a troubled sigh and gets up, pushes himself off the couch with a frightening force that lets her knows she’s in for it. All jokes and playful banter quickly abandon the room, filling with unfamiliar tension that makes her want to flee.

He paces back in forth in the living room, running a hand through his hand, breathing through his nose like a bull about to strike. He can’t even look at her in the eyes. It’s so unlike Foggy that it scares her, makes her want to disappear and wish what almost happened so definitely didn’t happen.

But there’s more to the anger she’s witnessing. He’s hurt, wounded. Can’t deny the look of devastation on his face when he pulled away. 

She was only following the butterflies. ‘Don’t drag us into this,’ they said.

“What are you doing Karen?” he says.

And he’s using a tone of voice with her she’s never heard him use, a type of tone that slashes through the air like a whip hitting skin. There’s a hint of pleading in his voice, begging for an answer she know she doesn’t have.    

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“I thought you liked Matt.”

“I do-I mean, I did.”

“You _did_?”

“I-I don’t know,” and she buries her face into her hands.

And Karen feels like shit because how could she do this? To Foggy of all people.

Her best friend who stayed up with her all night when she couldn’t face heading to her own apartment, the one who thought her how to swing a bat, the one who failed teaching her Punjabi because maybe he didn’t really pass the beginners course in college.

Karen whimpers as tears begin to leak from her eyes. She doesn’t even bother to wipe them away as Foggy nears. He lets out another sigh.

“Karen, it’s ok.” He says. “I’m sorry. You’re drunk, you didn’t know what you were doing. I shouldn’t—shouldn’t have snapped like that. Just a minute ago you were saying MoJo Jojo mustn’t be that bad, so,”  he runs his hand over his face in conclusion “clearly you’re not in the right state of mind. You’ve had a lot to drink and I’m supposed to take care of you. Not--yell at you.”

And she wants to disagree because she’s drunk but not that drunk. She’s still somewhat sober enough to be held accountable for her actions. But would that be wise?

What can come from that?  

A conversation she almost engaged in that had her just as clueless and confused as Foggy? He almost dropped Matt in a top of hat and for what? How does she know he won’t do the same to her? Yes, Foggy still managed to stay friends with Matt but that was different; they’ve been friends for years.

They’ve only known each other for a few months. It wouldn’t be that hard to erase her from his life if he chose to do so. To confess will only further hurt them both.

So she stays silent.

Foggy tucks her in and wishes her goodnight. Snuggling into Toy Story sheets, she stares at the glow in the dark stickers on the ceiling, falling asleep to soft sounds of snoring heard from the next room.

She wakes the next morning remembering everything.

 


End file.
